


After Caradhras

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, movie-based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26495491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: By Rorie Fae.Aragorn is concerned about Boromir's hesitation to return the ring to Frodo.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Boromir (Son of Denethor II)
Kudos: 7
Collections: Least Expected





	After Caradhras

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me; no money will be made from this story.

Frodo stumbled, almost caught himself, but then was buffeted by another great gust of wind and tumbled sideways down the slope, collapsing against a stone along the path. Aragorn hastened up the path and helped him to his feet. Frodo's hand clutched at his throat, panicked. There was a rustle of armor and leather behind them, and they both turned and froze. Boromir was looking down at the ring, glistening, the broken chain strewn across the white snow. He reached down and picked it up. 

They stood so for a moment. "Boromir." Aragorn's voice was tense. 

Boromir did not respond to his name; his eyes were fixed on the gleaming circle. "Tis a strange thing, that we should suffer so much fear and doubt for so small a thing." Boromir lingered, his gaze intent on the ring dangling from the broken chain in his hand. As Aragorn's hand fell silently to his sword hilt, Frodo reached out. 

Boromir stood still another moment. "Such a little thing," he murmured. 

"Boromir, give the ring to Frodo," growled Aragorn harshly. 

Boromir shook himself, and with a slight laugh, stepped forward. "As you wish. I care not." He dropped the ring into Frodo's outstretched hand. All the Fellowship let out a collective breath, sighed with relief, and moved on. 

That evening, after admitting defeat to cruel Caradhras and heading back to a surprisingly calmer lower mountain slope, the Fellowship assembled a simple dinner and set up camp, then collapsed around  
their small campfire. The hobbits were exempted from watch, since the high mountain path had taken the hardest toll on them. Gandalf offered to take the first turn, saying he had much thinking to do. As Boromir started to settle in for the night, Aragorn stopped him. 

"A word with you, if you please." He motioned Boromir toward the nearby stream used earlier for drinking water and washing. With a questioning look, Boromir nodded, following Aragorn. 

"Just what was that about," Aragorn snapped as soon as they were out of earshot of the camp. "What were you thinking!" 

Boromier backed up, his expression defensive. "Now just a minute, Aragorn, who are you to be accusing me. I gave it back." 

"Yes, and what if I would not have been there," shouted Aragorn. He drew a deep breath and shuddered. "Its not just for the quest, Boromir. Think of what it would do to you. Think of the Nazgul. He would find you, Boromir. It is not safe for men to use." 

Boromir's face, first full of defiance, crumpled at Aragorn's kinder words. 

"I know, you are right. I am glad you were there. Do not leave us alone Aragorn, it speaks to me . . it haunts me. I know I should not have touched it . . . I am not like you Aragorn; you are like my brother. Thoughtful, learned, able to control your actions. It is a struggle for me." 

"Yet you must." Aragorn's voice was gentler now, but still harsh, well aware of the risk to both this man and all the world. "You should have been able to stop yourself, Boromir. You must learn to obey me in this." 

Boromir looked up, surpised by both the words and the look in Aragorn's eye. 

I . . . what . . . " he faltered. 

"You heard me." With one swift motion Aragorn reached out and caught Boromir's tunic by the front of the collar, drawing the others face to his own. His intent, deep gaze fixed on Boromir's face and his grip was tight. "You must learn to obey my command to leave the ring be, if that is all that will hold you. I must have assurance that you can and will do so as this quest continues." 

His lips brushed, feather light, against Boromir's. Boromir shuddered, trembled, but did not meet Aragorn's gaze. 

"I will have your obedience on this," insisted Aragorn. "I see you find it difficult. Must I train you to my command, as I train my hounds?" 

"I am not a mangy ranger's hound," protested Boromir, twisting and turning in the firm grip, searching for weakness. "What do you plan, to set me in leash and collar? Don't be ridiculous." 

"No," agreed Aragron with a grim smile, "but it seems you need a similar hand - as even now you defy me. Since you tell me you cannot control yourself in this, perhaps another method is needed. If words and your own will are not sufficient, we will replace those with other incentives. Remember our night together at Imladris; you promised to follow my lead on this quest." 

Boromir's groin tightened as Aragorn's words and touch brought back the memories of that night, Boromir's first night with a man and first experience since childhood of letting go of responsibility, of submitting his will to that of another. 

The grip of Aragorn's left hand on the tunic tightened and twisted, forcing Boromir to complete stillness as Aragorn's right hand searched for and found the opening at the waist to reach warm skin. Within minutes Aragorn was able to relax his grip as he brought his captive to a state of shuddering passion, forgetting his defiance as his body become completely focused on the heated touch of the other. He moaned with need, reaching up into Aragorn's grip. Suddenly that grip loosened and he dropped, hard, to the ground. He strained up, eager for more of the warm touches of a moment ago. It was denied him; Aragorn pushed him back to the ground. Grasping the back of Boromir's head with one hand, he opened Boromirs tunic with the other, exposing his throat, chest, stomach to the sky and the trees. Aragorn's hand slid down and opened Boromir's breeches, reached between his legs, and gripped. He twisted slightly, causing Boromir to moan and shudder on the edge of pain. 

"Aragorn, please", he gasped. 

"Learn this now, Boromir," he said. When you see the ring, or hear its seductive spell beguiling you, remember this moment, my touch. I am your captain." He punctuated his words with slight twists of his wrist. 

"No, I promise," whispered Boromir. 

"Instead of the ring, think of me." 

Boromir closed his eyes and shuddered, allowing Aragorn's words and physical presence to fill him. Maybe this would work; he hoped it would. The memory of the ring, glittering up at him as it lay before him in the newly fallen snow, filled his mind for a moment, calling to him again. He knew Aragorn was right; something more was needed or he would not be able to fight off the call of the ring. Boromir reached down to Aragorn's own erect manhood, and tentatively wrapped his hand  
around it. "yes, my lord, I will do as you say. Let me pleasure you now, please." 

"Do so, and let these memories of pleasure fill you as the need for the ring seeks to displace them." Aragorn released Boromir, allowing him to sink to his knees and take Argorn fully into his hands and mouth, satisfying both their need. 

When he had finished, Aragorn pushed him, more gently than before, to lie face down on the forest floor. 

"Do not think I am done with you yet," he continued grimly. "You have done well, but I do not trust you yet, to the constant lure of the ring. You have already shown yourself to be too vulnerable to its spell." Aragorn paused for a moment, unsure of continuing. He called back to memory the horrible moment in the snow where he found his hand on his sword, the moment of dread when he thought he would have to fight Boromir for possession of the ring. He drew his dagger, and Boromir looked back over his shoulder in dismay and surprise. 

"My lord?" he faltered, then tried to roll sideways, but the tangle of his clothing slowed him and Aragorn caught and held him, bringing the flat of the blade down in three short, hard blows to his exposed buttocks. 

"One for touching the ring", said Aragorn as the first blow fell; "two, for needing my prompting to return it to Frodo, and finally, three, for hesitating to obey my order to return it to him. Such punishment is not usual for me, I assure you, Boromir, but we are short for time and in desperate circumstances and I judged this necessary." 

Aragorn stopped, panting, to catch his breath as restraining Boromir had been no easy task. "The pain, Boromir, is for you to use in yourown battle against the dark lord. It is he who truly means you evil, not I. Whatever it takes to stop yourself from pursuing the ring, you must use." The two of them lay still, both panting from the exertion, emotion and arousal of the moment. 

Boromir was silent, drawing in deep ragged breaths as he took in the shock and pain of the moment and Aragorn's urgent, desperate words. 

"Boromir," said Aragorn after a while. "To my certain knowledge, if you try again for the ring, your life will be forfeit. I would not lose you; prove that I have trained you well by obeying me. I require your service, your sword as well as your self at my side whether in the field or in my great halls to be." 

The words "your life will be forfeit" rang in Boromir's mind, and he knew that this was a true vision Aragorn had. "Yes, my lord," he said at last. "I know you have done as you see best, Aragorn, to keep me from my own demons. It is darkness we go into, and I am honored to be meeting it with you." 

They sat together awhile, Boromir watching Aragorns grim and sad face as he stared silently into the trees. "Aragorn," he asked at last. "It is cold and surely we need some sleep." 

Aragorn started, then looked to Boromir. "Indeed, we need sleep, but I think just now there is something we both still need more." He leaned down, and ran his fingers from Boromir's shoulder, slowly across chest, nipple, abdomen, to groin. "your training is not yet complete, my lord." 

Boromir gasped, and arched up into Aragorn's grip. "Indeed, I am ready." 

With that Aragorn settled his warm body down over Boromir's and pleasured him well, leaving no doubt of his love and concern for the man. 

When he finished, and released Boromir, they lay quietly together for some time before returning to the camp, where they slept deeply through what was left of the night. 

the end

**Author's Note:**

> I'd be very glad to hear what you think


End file.
